Labyrinth
by nw21jcc
Summary: A mass grave is discovered, each victim suffering an array of injuries different to the next. Four agents are about to find out first hand what happened to them. Reid/Hotch/Prentiss/Morgan
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS OR ANY RELATED CHARACTERS**

**A/N: So I'm back. Not sure how frequent updates will be but I'll do my best! This story has been floating around in my noggin for some time so here it is. Set in series 7, after all the who-ha but before Prentiss leaves (again!) The story will focus mainly on Reid, Morgan, Prentiss and Hotch (but **_**mainly**_** mainly Reid). Hope you enjoy!**

**LABYRINTH - Chapter One**

"What do we have?" Hotch asked as he walked into the round room, Morgan and Rossi close behind him. The rest of the team sat at the table, except Garcia who stood in front of the screen, ready to present the case.

"It's not good, Sir." Garcia said as Hotch and the other sat down. "A mass grave was discovered this morning just outside of Manassas." She pressed the clicker in her hand and the screen showed a picture of a wooded area. The ground had been disturbed and several human remains, all at varying stages of decomposition could be seen.

"How many victims?" Prentiss asked, picking up her tablet to have a closer look at the photos. Several of the remains were now skeletal while others looked relatively new.

"Twenty." Garcia replied, simply. She pressed the clicker again; glad to have rid of the grim grave picture, replacing it with snaps of the victims when they were alive.

"Twenty?" Hotch asked, looking up from his file. "How long has this been happening for?" Twenty victims. Twenty murders and nobody had noticed.

"The oldest remains date back to four years ago." She glanced at the screen behind her, sadness filling her as she thought about how all of these twenty, smiling, happy people had had their lives taken from them.

"The bodies were grouped in fours." JJ said, herself looking at her tablet, then around the rest of the team. "Does each group have a connection to one another?" She asked, leaning back in her chair a little.

Garcia nodded. "The first group, Macy Wickman, Trevor Hampton, Sarah Lewiston and Michael Smith all attended the same squash club. They were all reported missing within three days of one another in February 2008." She pressed the button and the four mentioned victims photos appeared together. "Then Sarah Jonas, Garry Hartman, Joanna Pine and Kelly Murray all used the same grocery store and where reported missing within days of each other in March 2009." She pressed the button again and the photo changed to four new faces.

"Grocery store?" Prentiss asked, looking at the faces. It was a bit of a tenuous link, but it was a connection none the less.

"The third group," Reid said, reading aloud out of his own paper file, "Matthew Hodge, Jayson Richards, Micah Roberts and Alan Davey frequented the same bar and were acquaintances of one another." He turned the page. "All reported missing on the same day, April 2010."

"He's taking them thirteen months apart." Hotch said, noticing the pattern.

Garcia nodded. "Jennifer Kindle, Ralph Johnson, Kerry Bannister, Sean Harding all missing in May 2011. Their kids went to the same playgroup. Then there's the last group, Caitlin Myers, Harry Williams, Hannah Reims and Lucas Yates. All reported nine days ago, discovered this morning."

"Does that mean he won't kill again till next year?" JJ asked.

"We need to find him before the case goes cold." Hotch said, not looking up from what he was reading. "Again." He added, raising his eyes to look at JJ, before returning them to his tablet.

"All the victims were aged between twenty five and forty five." Morgan said, after looking at each victims profile.

"The injuries are extensive," Rossi said, reading the file. "But they seem erratic. They don't seem to match on any one victim." He flicked to look at the next page. "Electrical burns, laceration, crush injuries." He read aloud.

"Wait," Reid said, turning the page in his file. "Each group of four has the same injuries within it." He said, not looking up.

"Yea, but they're all over the place." Prentiss said, not looking up from her tablet, trying to piece together what had happened to these people. "Two groups show no signs of any crush injuries at all while one group, three victims do, and the other two groups all had them."

"That true, but look," Reid said, looking up. "Out of the victims that were able to be autopsied and had enough remains for lab tests, two in every group showed signs of hypothermia. One of those two also had the electrical burns." He looked back down at his file them at the team. "One of the remaining two suffered the lacerations to their arms."

"So they may be separated?" Hotch asked him, still unsure of the pattern of injuries.

Reid shrugged. "I don't know." This case seemed to be making little sense. Working out what had happened to these people, and who had done it would prove more than challenging.

"Could he be pitting them against each other?" JJ asked, looking at the victims faces on the large screen. Some of them were so young...

"Like a competition?" Rossi suggested. "Teams of two, putting them through a trial?" He looked around the room and shrugged. This case was baffling. The injuries made no sense. The victimology was all over the place. "But why these people?" He asked, also looking at the photo.

"Maybe they have to work together, rather than against each other?" Reid suggested. Looking from the large screen to Rossi and back.

"Makes sense." Morgan said, nodding. "If they know each other, even if it's just from the supermarket, it would make the stress of having to watch them get hurt trying to help you that much worse." He looked around the group, settling his gaze on Hotch. "It's physical and emotional torture."

"There's one more thing!" Garcia said, pressing the button again. "Each group was found with a note, wrapped in plastic." She indicated the picture behind her which had five plastic wallets, each with a scrap of paper inside. "The first two were too degraded to get anything off but the last three were all the same." She pressed the button again.

"_**They didn't learn. They lost."**_

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" Prentiss asked, looking at the picture. It was the same handwriting on them all. Even the same colour pen. Red.

"We'll find out." Hotch said, standing. "Manassas PD is waiting. It's a fairly local case so we'll drive. Reid, Prentiss and Morgan, you come with me to the station. Rossi and JJ, stay here with Garcia, go through victimology. Backgrounds, lab results, everything." He looked at the screen and sighed. "He picked these people for a reason."

(((((())))))

**I know it's short but it's really just an intro to what's going on. The fun will start to happen soon : ) Let me know what you think. **

**I looked it up, and from what I can find, Manassas is only 35 miles from Quantico so they could drive it in less than an hour. Hope that's right... Sorry if it's not! **


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS OR ANY RELATED CHARACTERS**

**A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed and added this story! Hope you enjoy it! I don't recall it ever being mentioned in an episode who could swim or not, so I made it up : )**

**LABYRINTH - Chapter Two**

"Ok, everybody heading to Deep Dark Secretsville please board as the train is now departing," Garcia said as she looked up from her computer screen.

JJ, Rossi and herself had turned the Round Room into a makeshift work space. Garcia had bough in a few of her lap tops, while JJ and Rossi combed through every inch of paper work relating to the case that they could find.

"What have you found?" looking up from the Missing Persons Report he was reading for Kelly Murray from 2009.

"The things I have found would make any daytime TV soap character shudder in anticipation of the storyline." Garcia ignored Rossi's and JJ's raised eyebrows and continued. "Each and every victim had some secret in there past, or something they ultimately regretted."

"Like?" JJ prompted when Garcia didn't elaborate.

"Ok, so from the first group of four, Macy Wickman falsely accused a man of rape when her fiancé found her in an ally at the back of a nightclub doing the dirty, so to speak. Trevor Hampton was a drug addict who got clean and lapsed several times. He was clean at the time of his abduction." She looked down at her screen before looking back up. "Sarah Lewiston had an abortion, or several, and Michael Smith was issued with a DUI after he knocked down a six year old."

"The other victims all have these sorts of backgrounds?" Rossi asked, placing down the report he had been reading.

Garcia nodded. "They vary in extremes." She looked back at the screen of her laptop. "One guy, Jayson Richards," She looked back up. "From the third group of people had countless arrests for aggravated assault, burglary, car theft, yada yada yada. Whereas another guy, Micah Roberts, who went missing at the same time, well," She shrugged. "From what I can tell, all he was guilty of was not seeing his little girl as much as he should have."

"So the UnSub thinks he's some kind of injustice collector?" JJ asked, sceptically.

Rossi nodded. "If all the victims have something in their past that could be perceived as a wrong doing, it could be why he's choosing them."

"I'll call Hotch." JJ said, pulling out her cell phone. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. "No answer." She said, looking at her cell phone confused. Hotch always answered.

"Maybe he's driving." Garcia suggested, pulling out her own cell. "I'll try Emily."

JJ dialled Hotch again. Still no answer. "I'll ring Spence." She said, trying his number instead.

"Voicemail." Garcia said, hanging up. "Morgan it is then." She dialled again. It rang a few times before she shook her head and hung up as the voicemail kicked in.

Rossi looked at his watch. "They left over hour ago." He looked up at JJ. "Try the station."

JJ nodded. Dialling the number from one of the case files and waiting for an answer from the Manassas PD. She stood from the table when the call was answered and headed over to the window to continue the conversation.

"I don't like this." Garcia said, turning back to her laptop. "One of them not answering is ok. That's fine. But all four?" She shook her head, typing away furiously.

"What are you doing?" Rossi asked, sitting up in his chair slightly in an attempt to get a better view of her computer screen.

"Tracing their phones." Garcia said simply, without looking up.

"OK," JJ said, returning to the table. "Manassas PD got a call from Hotch saying they were on-route, but were going to take a look at the dump site before they reported into the station. That was thirty minuets ago but they haven't arrived at the scene yet."

"Guys," Garcia said quietly, looking up from her laptop. "Their cell phones are located on Dumfries Road, just north of Dale City."

"Maybe they got stuck in traffic?" JJ suggested.

Garcia shook her head. "They haven't moved in the last twenty minuets." She looked at Rossi, the worry written all over her face.

"I'll call Manassas again." JJ said, pressing re-dial on her cell.

"Tell them we're on our way." Rossi said, grabbing his jacket and heading out the door. Garcia and JJ looked at each other before wordlessly following.

(((((())))))

It was cold. Freezing.

Reid had the sensation of falling, but before he'd been able to make any sense of it, his body had been taken over by the immense bitterness. It took him a few seconds to figure out that he was now also wet. It took him a further few to realise he couldn't breath. He opened his eyes to discover he was underwater. He swam to the surface, his mind racing. How had he gotten here? Where were the others? Where was here? He broke the surface of the water gulping down the air. It was far from fresh but it was air.

After a few moments, his lungs had caught up with his needs and his breathing had slowed. He looked around. The room was fairly large, around twice the size of the bull pen back at Quantico. The water was deep. He wasn't sure how deep, but he had been fully submerged a few feet below the surface and the bottom was nowhere in reach either.

The ceiling of the room was high, at least fifteen feet from where he was. It was curved at the edges to create a tunnel effect. The walls were made of dark, rough stone. In the middle of the ceiling was what looked like a storm cellar door. He guessed that must be from where he'd fallen. Next to the door hung a single light. It lit the room dimly, but well enough to take in the surroundings. There was a small ledge on one wall, slightly above the water. It was just big enough for a man to sit or stand on, although sitting would mean dangling your legs into the freezing water.

He racked his brain, trying to remember what had happened. Where were the rest of the team? The water was too cold; his memory was drawing a blank. There had to be a way out.

Before he could move to find one, the door above him opened and a limp figure fell into the water. Reid waited in shock for a few seconds before he realised the figure wasn't surfacing. He dove under the water swimming in the direction of the unknown person. He could make out a figure in the water.

Morgan.

Although he seemed to be conscious, he was making little or no effort to make it to the surface of the water. If anything, he seemed to be, well, panicking. At any other time, the sight of Morgan flustered like this would have been amusing. This time, however, it just scared Reid more.

He made his way over to the older agent, hooking his right arm under both of Morgan's arms and across his chest, making his way to the surface, grateful for the upward force of the water.

They broke through the surface, Morgan gasping for air. "Reid?" He managed to choke out between gasps.

"Yea, it's me." Reid answered, still supporting Morgan. "Where's Hotch and Prentiss?"

Morgan's breathing had evened out. "I don't know man." He said, looking around. "God, it's cold."

"You ok?" Reid asked. Morgan nodded and Reid took this as a sign to let go.

"Woah, woah!" Morgan shouted, causing Reid to stop and continue his hold on his friend. "I erm," Morgan chuckled. Despite everything else that was going on, he found he couldn't help it.

Reid paused. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, a little worried that he was no longer able to feel the cold.

"I, erm..." Morgan chuckled again. "I never learnt to swim." He confessed. "I tried, but, well, I sucked at it so I gave up."

Reid was silent. If it had been a different situation, he was sure he would have had a field day with this piece of information. At the moment, it just seemed to be another obstacle. He looked around the room again, still holding Morgan, when his eyes fell upon the ledge he'd spotted earlier. "Hang on." He said, starting to swim in the direction of the ledge. Morgan remained silent until they reached the side of the room. Reid positioned him so that he would be able to pull himself out of the water onto it. "Climb on."

Morgan did so. When he was sat on the ledge, cross legged so as to avoid the cold water, he looked down at Reid. "You need to get out of the water too." He said, looking around the room, he noticed there was only one such ledge.

"I'm fine." Reid said, holding onto the edge of the ledge for support.

"Bullshit, Reid." Morgan said, resting his head against the wall and realising it was a pointless argument. There was no way they would both fit on the ledge, and there wasn't anything similar to be seen. "Sorry, Man." He said, looking at the younger man.

"What for?" Reid asked, starting to feel the cold again. "Never learning to swim?" He asked, smiling broadly.

"Oh so now you gonna rip me for that?" Morgan said, raising an eyebrow. "We got bigger fish to fry, man." Morgan could feel himself starting to shiver. Guilt ran through him as he noticed Reid shivering in the freezing water.

"Not yet," Reid said, his voice betraying the cold he was feeling. "But when we get home, yeah." He looked at Morgan and smiled, unable to believe that Morgan, possible one of the manliest men in the FBI, was unable to swim.

"Any ideas how to get out of here?" Morgan asked, looking around again as if some magic doorway would have appeared.

Reid looked around. "Hang on." He said, looking up at Morgan before taking a deep breath and disappearing beneath the water.

"Reid!" Morgan called, leaning forwards a little. "Reid!" He shouted again. Nothing. What was the kid doing? Even Morgan had worked out that they had no doubt been taken by the UnSub, and the two victims with hypothermia had no doubt been the ones locked in this room. If he knew that, and currently had the statistics of hypothermia survival rates running through his head then it was a sure bet Reid did too, and the kid had put himself in more danger by swimming off to go knows where?

He waited for what seemed like forever before Reid resurfaced in the middle of the room.

"Jesus, Reid!" Morgan said, glad to see his friend alive. "What the hell was that about?"

Reid waited until he reached Morgan before he answered. "None of the victims drowned." He answered, his voice shaking from the cold. "That means there's a way out of here." He held onto the edge of the ledge again for support.

Morgan looked at him, eyebrows raised. "You find anything." Reid nodded, but didn't answer right away. "Reid?" Morgan said, gently placing his hand or Reid's arm. Even though he was cold himself, Morgan could still tell Reid's body temperature was plummeting. "You need to get out of the water." Morgan said, starting to make his way off the ledge. Even though he couldn't swim, he could still hold onto the edge of the ledge.

Reid shook his head and stopped Morgan in his tracks. "There's... a lever." He said, drawing in uneven breaths. "In the far corner." He turned his head to look in the direction he had seen the lever.

"You think that's the way outta here?" Morgan asked, trying not to get his hopes up.

"The floor... it's like a grate." He said, looking back at Morgan. "There's a false floor beneath it. I guess the lever makes it drop, or some... something." He was trying to ignore the cold that seemed to have seeped into his bones, but the constant shivering was making it almost impossible. "I'll be back." He said, before taking a deep breath and disappearing again.

He made his way over to where he had seen the lever. It wasn't anything special. A metal pole, around a foot or so in length, protruding from the wall at an upwards angle. He placed his hands on it, vaguely aware that he had stopped shivering again. He closed his eyes, briefly thinking about the injuries of the victims, and hoping the Hotch and Prentiss were alright, before he pushed down on the lever.

And it all went black.

(((((())))))

"Reid!" Morgan called. He knew it was futile. Despite outwards appearances he knew Reid was a though kid, and stubborn as a mule. He leaned back against the wall when a though struck him. He was mentally recounting the injuries of the victims, and the pattern Reid had noticed. Two of every four victims showed signs of hypothermia. He was pretty sure that was caused from the room he and Reid were locked in. The other two in each for had lacerations to their arms. That was likely caused by whatever hell Hotch and Prentiss had found themselves in. But there was something else.

One of each hypothermia victim had electrical burns to their hands. That meant either Reid or himself. He was pretty sure he was safe – or as safe as could be expected – where he sat on the ledge out of the water. But Reid? That's when it hit him.

The lever. Their only way out.

"Reid!" He shouted, although he knew he wouldn't get an answer. He fought the urge to dive in the water, knowing he wouldn't be able to help anyway. "Reid!" He shouted again, as if this time there would be a response. There was a loud _'clank'_. The light in the room dimmed even lower for a second, then the noise of water draining. "Reid!" Morgan shouted again, as he noticed the water level receding.

The water drained fast. Morgan used his arms to extend his body from the ledge and drop to the floor. The water still came to his knees but was getting lower. He though for a moment about how Reid must have been right about the floor, noticing that it seemed to have gone and only the grate that he had spoken about remained.

"Reid!" He shouted, still not seeing his friend. He made his way through the remaining water, ignoring the chill it sent through his body, to the corner that Reid had indicated earlier. As he approached the water level was low enough for him to make out the figure of his friend, slumped at an awkward angle between the floor and wall. "God, no." Morgan said as he practically leapt the last several feet between them.

He rolled Reid over onto his back. He wasn't breathing. Morgan didn't even have to think about what to do. "C'mon, Reid." He said as he compressed on his friends chest he counted to five, before breathing for him also. "Damn it!" He shouted, continuing compressions. He repeated the cycle for what felt like forever before he heard Reid take a sharp intake of breath. "C'mon, one more." He said, continuing the chest compressions. Reid exhaled, immediately followed by him coughing up water.

Morgan picked him up into a slight sitting position, holding him to his chest. "It's ok." He soothed, as Reid continued to cough. "It's ok." He unconsciously wiped the younger mans hair off his forehead. "You did it, Reid." He said, allowing a small smile to creep on his face.

Reid smiled, still unable to speak or fully catch his breath. He hurt. Although it seemed everywhere hurt. His lungs hurt to breath. His head hurt to think. His hands hurt. He looked down, turning his hands so the palms were facing him. "Morgan." He said quietly, not looking away from his hands.

Morgan turned to see what Reid was looking at. The palms of Reid's hands were both burnt. The left was far worse than the right. Morgan couldn't look at it for too long, but he was sure the burn had damaged several layers of skin. The edges of the burns looked almost black where the skin had been killed while the centre of each wound was an angry red

Morgan closed his eyes. This could not be happening. He must have dozed off in the car on the way to Manassas and was in the middle of some nightmare or something.

"Morgan."

Reid's voice was quiet and shaky, but still sounded determined. Morgan had to admit, he admired that about Reid. He wasn't one to give up.

"Yea, kid?" He asked, looking down at Reid's face. He was pale. But then Morgan supposed, if he'd been electrocuted and half drowned, he'd be pale too.

Reid sat up a little on his own, wincing at the movement. He took a deep breath and pushed himself to sit up all the way. He looked around, noticing for the first time that a small door had opened up next to the lever. He indicated the door with a nod, not sure yet if he could use his hands. He tried to speak, coughing a little as he did. He turned to face Morgan. "We need to find Hotch and Emily."

Morgan simply nodded. He helped Reid to stand, supporting him as he did so, and they slowly made their way to the door.

(((((())))))

**So what's happened to Hotch and Prentiss? Soon to be revealed! As will how they ended up in this mess, and why. Unless you can figure it out... :P Hope you enjoyed! Coments and constructive criticism welcome! Till next time! xx **

**PS - I did some research on hypotermia and according to what I found, swimming in cold water or fully submerging yourself for long periods of time (like swimming under water) makes it worse and can cause an earlier onset. I only found this online so might not be 100% medically acurate, but for my story, it is (admit it, you all love the Reid whump!) **


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS OR ANY RELATED CHARACTERS**

**A/N: Thanks again everyone for reviewing/adding! Someone pointed out the Morgan can actually swim, but like I said, I couldn't remember. I wanted Reid to be the hero for a change! Also, I'm pretty sure swimming is a requirement for entry into the FBI but we'll skip over that bit of info, shall we? ; )**

**LABYRINTH - Chapter Three**

Hotch was vaguely aware that his left arm was beginning to go numb. He opened his eyes, slowly. The first thing he saw was Prentiss, directly opposite him, seemingly unconscious. He though this odd, as he himself was standing up, and therefore Prentiss must be too. Then he noticed that her right hand was suspended above her head with a manacle around her wrist.

The manacle was attached to a thick chain which crossed over a bar suspended from the ceiling. The chain was then attached to another manacle, around his own left wrist. He closed his eyes and sighed. At least that explained why his arm felt numb. He had no idea how long they had been chained this way.

He looked around the room. It was fairly small, smaller than his office back in Quantico. Between them was a small wall, only around three feet high. Immediately to his right and only just within reach was a table, slightly higher than the wall. On the table sat a metal box with two holes either side, just big enough for your arm to fit through. There was a doorway visible behind Prentiss.

He then noticed that his jacket had been removed, as had Prentiss' and his shirt sleeves rolled up. The sleeves on Prentiss jumper had been rolled up too, and his tie remained loosely around his neck. He looked at Prentiss again, realising that somebody had tied her hair back into a pony tail.

Where the hell were they? He racked his brain trying to recall what had happened, closing his eyes as he did so. He remembered being on route to the Mass Grave Site. They'd gotten a flat and had pulled over to change it to the spare. He shook his head, unable to remember anything after that.

He sighed, opening his eyes to find himself looking at the floor. "What the hell?" He asked himself. He seemed to be standing on what looked remarkably like a trap door. He leant over the wall as much as he could to see Prentiss was standing on something similar. "This can't be good." He muttered. "Prentiss?" He called softly. She stirred a little, but nothing more. "Prentiss?" He tried again, this time louder.

She opened her eyes, but before she had the chance to say anything, a loud noise could be heard below them.

Hotch took only a few second to realise the doors beneath them were about to open. He placed his feet on either side of the door so as to balance himself on the floor. "Prentiss, the floor..." He tried to warn her, but before he could, the doors had opened.

Prentiss had only a split second to realise what was happening before she felt her body fall through the trap door. She felt a sharp tugging pain in her right wrist before she came to a halt. She opened her eyes, breathing heavily from the shock of what had happened.

Hotch was standing before her, feet braced either side of the trap door opening. His left arm, shackled to her own right arm, had been what had saved her. He was using his right hand to help support the weight of the chain on his wrist.

Prentiss looked down briefly. All she could see below her was black. It seemed never ending. "Hotch..." She said, looking at her boss, still not quite able to believe what was happening. He looked at her, his lips pursed from the effort of supporting her weight. "What do we do now?" She asked. Her own wrist felt like it was going to snap at any moment.

"Climb onto the wall." Hotch said, nodding towards the small stone structure between them. At least if she could managed to support herself on the wall, it would take the strain off both of their wrists and free them up a little to do whatever the hell they needed to do.

Prentiss reached towards the wall, her fingers barely grasping the top of it. "I can't reach." She said, her voice exasperated. "Damn it!" She said, trying and failing again.

Hotch removed his right arm from supporting his left. "Try again." He said, after adjusting his left arm to support her weight. He leant forward a little, careful not to loose his balance or lower Prentiss further.

Prentiss reached out again. This time Hotch managed to grab hold of her finger tips, pulling her in closer to the wall. She managed – somewhat ungracefully – to pull herself up on the wall, straddling it so she was facing the box. She and Hotch both let out a sigh of relief as the pressure on their wrists lessened.

"So what the hell do we do now?" She asked, resting her head against her suspended arm.

Hotch looked around the room again. "We find a way out of here and them we find Morgan and Reid." He said, his eyes falling on the metal box. "And I think it has something to do with that." He said, nodding towards the box.

"I have a bad feeling about this." Prentiss said, eyeing up the box. She sighed, looking up at her chained wrist, tugging a few times as if it would come loose. "Would you like to go first, or shall I?" She asked, turning to look at the box again. Hotch raised an eyebrow, but didn't answer. "Lady's first, I guess." She said, reaching towards the box.

The table was only just within her reach. She tried to pull it a little closer, unsurprised when it didn't move. There was an opening on her side of the box, and one on Hotch's. "Here goes nothing." She said, placing her left arm into the hole. She had to approach it at a somewhat awkward angle, but she managed. She'd just about got her whole hand in, when she gasped and pulled it back out.

"You ok?" Hotch asked, his face as calm as ever, but his eyes betraying his worry.

Prentiss looked at her hand. She had a jagged cut running along the back of it. "The box." She said, looking from her hand to Hotch. "It's sharp inside." She looked at her hand again. "Like razors or something."

"Lacerations." Hotch said, recounting the injuries suffered by the victims. "The key must be in the box. You have to cut yourself to get out." He looked up at the chains, tugging them in a similar fashion to how Prentiss had earlier.

Prentiss swore under her breath. "Well, we can't stay here forever." She turned to look back at the box. "At least we know none of the victims died from blood loss, right?" She turned to look at Hotch.

And for the first time, he did something she'd never seen him do. He shrugged. He looked around the room again, before looking at the box. "Together?" he said, not looking at Prentiss.

"Ok." She said, her voice sounding much more confident than she felt.

The next few seconds were a slight blur to Prentiss. She was aware that she was making a sound. Not a scream, not quite a shout. She wasn't really sure how to describe it. She was aware that Hotch was silent, but again had his lips pursed and his eyes closed. She was aware that her arm felt like it was on fire as she felt blade after blade dig into her skin.

And then she couldn't push her arm in any further. The back of the box. She opened her hand to feel around. There was something in there. It was hard to tell what it was. It was metal, and small. She grasped it in her hand, pulling her arm back out of the box. She thought it strange that it didn't seem to hurt as much on the way out. When she had her arm fully out of the box, she turned to look at Hotch.

His arm was soaked from the elbow down in blood. Cuts could be seen littering his arm, blood dripping from his fist. She looked at her own arm to see it in pretty much the same condition. "Ouch." She said, noticing she was a little out of breath.

"Ouch?" Hotch said, raising an eyebrow. He slowly opened his hand, the blood making at slippery. He carefully lifted the key up to the lock, mindful that it not slip from his hand. He placed the key into the lock on his wrist, ignoring the throbbing pain in his arm. He put the key in and turned.

Nothing.

Prentiss watched. "No." She said, almost to herself. That had to be the key! If not, then what was the point?

Hotch looked at the key for a moment, before turning his gaze to Prentiss. "Try your key." He said. She went to unlock her own manacle. "My lock." Hotch said, closing his eyes briefly and resting his head against his arm.

Prentiss reached round, surprised by how easy it was to reach Hotch's wrist. She placed her key in the lock, her fingers finding it difficult to work with the coating of blood. She let out a small yelp of joy and surprise when the lock opened.

Hotch, now free of his restraints, lost his balance a little, falling forward slightly. He managed to regain his composure, stepping onto solid flooring and using his key to unlock Prentiss. "You ok?" He asked, helping her down of the wall.

She tilted her head to the side. "I think given the circumstances, I'm not too bad." She looked around the room a little, then you Hotch. "You?" she asked, noticing he was rubbing his wrist, the blood on his hand streaking his skin as he did so.

"Fine." He answered simply. "Through there?" He half asked, half commanded, nodding towards the door.

She turned to look behind her, having not seen the door until now. "What's through there?" She asked. The pain in her arm had lessened slightly, as had the blood loss.

"Hopefully," Hotch answered, starting towards the door. "Morgan and Reid."

((((((())))))

**I know it's a shorter chapter, but that felt like the right place to stop. I know in Chapter 1 I said that only one victim in every for had the lacerations (I think) but I changed it to both of them because I couldn't decide who I wanted to hurt :p ) **

**Hope you enjoyed! **


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS OR ANY RELATED CHARACTERS**

**A/N: Thanks again everyone for reviewing/adding! Sorry for the delay! Got called up for Jury Duty! I'm a peer : ) KittyFiction2008, you read my mind about the ties! And yes, in all my stories, Reid is wearing a purple shirt. What can I say? I love purple. Hope you all enjoy... **

**LABYRINTH - Chapter Four**

Morgan couldn't remember a time when he had felt so cold.

The room he and Reid were now in was small, seven feet by seven feet at the most. There were metal doors on three of the four walls, including the one he and Reid had come through. The other two doors were, or course, locked. They reminded Morgan of the kind of doors they had in banks near the safe, thick and heavy. On the remaining wall, written in handwriting that Morgan recognised from the notes in the case files, and still written in red, was the word 'WAIT'. The pair were sat on the floor, leaning against the wall with the writing, knees drawn up to their chests to try and keep warm.

Morgan felt Reid shift next to him. If he was cold, he couldn't imagine how Reid was feeling. "You ok?" He asked, as the younger man leant forward.

"I need you to help me." Reid said, looking at Morgan. "I need to take my sweater off, and I can't." He lifted his hands slightly, giving Morgan a glimpse of the angry burns.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak. Nor did he make a move to help him.

"It'll take longer to dry than my shirt." Reid explained, his voice still shaking from the cold he felt. He hadn't got the energy to explain further.

Morgan nodded, understanding. The sweater would stay wetter, longer, and therefore so would Reid. "Ok." He said, moving forward into a position to help. He carefully pulled the sweater vest over Reid's head, taking extra care when helping the younger man to pull his arms and hands out. Reid groaned a little at the movement, but said nothing.

Morgan watched him as he leant back against the wall, now clad in his trousers, shirt and tie, and closed his eyes. The once dark purple shirt was now almost black in colour due to being soaked. Morgan placed the sweater vest between him and Reid and looked down at his own cloths, which were in a similar state. He smiled a little to himself, glad that he had chosen the wear cargo pants that day, as he could feel dry spots already forming on them.

"What's funny?" Reid asked, now looking at the older agent. Morgan chuckled, and bowed his head, but said nothing. "You're shivering." Reid said, closing his eyes again, taking a deep breath.

"So are you." Morgan replied, matter of fact. "How are your hands?" He asked. Reid hadn't complained about being in any pain, and Morgan wasn't sure if Reid was simply trying to put on a brave face, or if he actually couldn't feel any pain. The latter option worried him. If Reid was either too cold to feel the burns on his hands, or the burns were too deep into the tissue, then Morgan knew things would only get worse.

Reid coughed a little. "Where do you think Hotch and Prentiss are?" He asked, changing the subject. "We've been waiting here for ages." He could hear his own voice shaking and knew he was far past the stage of hypothermia setting in. "They should be here." He said, eyes still closed.

Morgan looked around the small room. "If that's what we're waiting for." He said. They had been no indication of how long they were to remain in the room. He turned to look at Reid again. The kid was pale, and constantly shivering as his body tried to regain the warmth it had lost. "How are your hands?" Morgan asked again, aware that Reid had changed the subject.

Reid shrugged slowly, opening his eyes to look at the damage. Each palm had been burnt from just above his thumb, diagonally across downwards towards his wrists. It worried Reid that they looked a lot more painful than they felt. "Ok." He said, trying to move his fingers on each hand. His fingers on both hands would move slightly. "Don't really hurt." He said, still moving his fingers back and fourth. "Can't move thumbs though." He added, discovering that they wouldn't move. It wasn't that it hurt to try and move them, they just wouldn't move.

Morgan watched Reid's hands as he tried to move his fingers. It hadn't escaped his attention that Reid had been missing out words when he spoke. If it had been anyone else, he probably wouldn't have picked up on it. But this was Reid.

Before he had a chance to act upon this thought or dwell on it longer, the door opposite where they sat opened. Slowly at first, as if the person behind it was struggling. There was a loud grunt – two voices distinguishable – and the door opened further. Morgan was so shocked by the door actually opening that he failed to notice for a few seconds that Hotch and Prentiss were the people on the other side.

"Oh thank God." Prentiss said, entering the small room and seeing her two team mates alive. "What the hell happened to you guys?" She asked. They were both soaked, sitting on the floor next to each other and shivering. Reid held his hands in his lap at a somewhat awkward looking angle.

"We could ask you the same." Reid said, his voice wavering slightly from the cold, his eyes not leaving the sight of their bloodied fore-arms.

"We, erm..." Prentiss sighed, turning to look at Hotch.

Hotch tilted his head to the side slightly, raising his eyebrows slightly and exhaling as he did so. "We were chained together over some kind of pit." He explained. "We had to get the keys to the cuffs out of a box."

"A box full of razors!" Prentiss added her tone sarcastic. Morgan looked at them both, blood dripping off their finger tips.

"Jesus." Morgan muttered. He was unable to take his eyes away from the blood that dripped from both Hotch's and Prentiss' fingertips, leaving neat little droplets on the concrete floor where they stood.

Reid shifted next to Morgan in an attempt to pick up his discarded sweater vest. Morgan turned to look at the younger man questioningly. "Rip it in half." Reid said once Morgan had picked up the vest. "They can use..." He coughed a little. "Use it as a bandage."

Morgan nodded, ripping the sweater from the sides along the seam to make two identical halves. He stood, a little shakily at first. Hotch made his way over to help him. Morgan nodded appreciatively, a little embarrassed at his boss and team mates seeing him in a weakened state.

"I'll do it." Prentiss said, making her way forward to take the sweater off Morgan. She set to work careful wrapping it around Hotch's forearm as a makeshift bandage. It looked a little odd, but at least it would stem any further bleeding and keep the wound clean. "Your go." She said, holding out her arm and the remaining half of the sweater. Morgan took them off her and began to copy what he had seen her do with Hotch.

"Just so you guys know," Reid said from where he still sat on the floor. "You guys owe me thirty dollars." He smiled, although it wasn't as bright as it usually was.

"Reid," Prentiss said, not looking away from Morgan's work. "When we get out of here I swear I'll by you a new sweater for everyday of the year."

Reid laughed a little, shifting where he sat. He winced as he did so, letting out an involuntary groan.

"You ok?" Hotch asked, moving closer to Reid and sitting next to him. "What happened to you guys?" it hadn't gone unnoticed that both Morgan and Reid were shivering, although the latter much worse. Hotch had also noticed, that Reid had barely moved since they'd joined them in the room.

"We were dropped into a room full of water." Morgan answered, finishing up Prentiss' arm. It had taken him much longer to wrap her arm than for her to wrap Hotch's, but at least it was done. "Very, very cold water." He added.

Reid chuckled a little. "Morgan can't swim." He said, smiling as he looked at his team mates.

"Seriously?" Prentiss asked, her jaw dropping a little. "I mean," She shook her head, "How can you..."

"Please." Hotch cut her off. "Jibe later, escape now." His voice was stern, but not unkind.

Morgan shot Prentiss a look suggesting he would make her pay for any taunts she may deliver before continuing. "Reid helped me outta the water onto some kinda platform." He explained. "There was a lever that drained out the water and opened the door." He finished, indicating the door that he and Reid had come through earlier.

As he listened, something clicked in Hotch's head. The two hypothermia victims, one received severe burns to their hands. It couldn't have been Morgan. He'd just watched as he'd bandaged up Prentiss. That coupled with the revelation that he couldn't swim meant...

"Reid," Hotch said, turning to face the youngest. "Show me your hands." His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed a look of worry.

Reid shifted his gaze down to his lap, sighing a little. He raised his hands for Hotch to see without raising his eyes.

"Oh, Reid." Hotch said, his voice surprisingly gentle. He looked away, not sure for a second or two what to do. "We need to get out of here." He stood and walked over to the remaining door. Morgan went with him, trying to open it. It wouldn't budge, but at least they felt they were doing something.

Prentiss kneeled down next to Reid. She didn't say anything, but did her best to give him a reassuring smile.

"They're not that bad." Reid said, not sure f he was trying to convince his team mates, or himself.

Prentiss raised an eyebrow. She knew that was a lie, and she knew Reid knew so too. "So Morgan can't swim, eh?" She said, trying to take his mind off of the subject for a few moments, while leaning forward a little to undo Reid's tie. "I cannot wait to share that bit of information with Garcia. And JJ. And Rossi." She smiled when Reid let out a small laugh. If she ignored the makeshift bandage on her arm, the cold concrete walls, the angry burns on her friends' hands as well as his constant shivering, she could almost – almost – pretend they were just having a conversation back in Quantico.

Reid leant forward to allow Prentiss to pull his tie off. He hadn't bothered to ask what she was doing. He trusted her, which was all that mattered.

She carefully took one of his injured hands and began to wrap the tie around the palm. Reid hissed a little as the fabric made contact with the damaged and delicate skin. Prentiss apologised but continued. She finished his one hand before turning to Hotch. "Give me your tie." She said, for a split second questioning why it hadn't been removed by the UnSub along with their jackets but saying noting.

Hotch wordlessly removed the garment and handed it over, before returning to Morgan to continue their futile attempts with the door.

Prentiss took Reid's other hand and repeated the process. "It's not great," She said, tying the crude bandage in place. "But it'll help protect them a little."

Reid nodded his thanks. He felt so tired. He wasn't sure if it was shock, exhaustion of just the hypothermia taking hold, but he wanted nothing more at that moment than to just lie down and go to sleep.

"This isn't working." Morgan said, giving up with the door and sitting back down. He was still shivering a little. His body ached, and his mind felt a little fuzzy. But he was starting to feel a little warmer, and he took that as a good thing.

Hotch sighed and turned to lean his back against the door. "Wait." He said, reading out the word from the wall. "Wait for what?" Nobody answered. Nobody knew. He made his way to sit next to Morgan. "Reid." He called out softly. He waited until he had the younger agent's attention, his lip twitching up into a small smile at the edges. He pointed to his bandaged hands. "You owe me fifteen dollars."

A loud clunk was heard echoing around the room.

The team all turned to look in the direction of the noise. The door had opened.

(((((())))))

**This chapter was meant to be much longer, but between the Jury Duty and looking after the family I haven't had time to write it all. I though I'd cut it off there and post rather than leave you all waiting. Wasn't too sure as not a lot really happens this chapter, it's kinda like a fill in chapter. More action (and the rest of the team!) in the next chapter, but I'm not gonna lie. I'm not sure when that will be, but don't worry! Promise I will! And I have no idea how many dollars a sweater vest would be. I worked it out at about £20 then converted it roughly into dollars... I think :/ xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS OR ANY RELATED CHARACTERS**

**A/N: Thanks everyone for reviewing/adding! Glad you all seem to still be liking it! Now, I have been to Manassas, but not for a long time. I have never been to Dale City. One thing I remember about Manassas is trees. Lots of trees. I apologise if this is wrong, but this story will have trees ; )**

**Also, I do not know where a spare tyre is kept on a SUV, so (believe it or not) I based it on where it's stored on my car, which is underneath. You have to get on the ground and undo a bolt and it falls down. True. **

**There will be bad language from now on – just a little warning. **

**LABYRINTH - Chapter Five **

"Wait, wait!" JJ almost shouted from the passenger seat of the SUV. "Pull over," She pointed at what had caught her eye. "There look." She, Garcia and Rossi were just over a mile north of Dale City. The road was flanked either side by woods. Not too far ahead of them pulled over to the side of the road, hazard lights still blinking, was a black SUV.

"That's theirs." Rossi said, pulling over behind it. He recognised the licence plate immediately.

"So where are they?" Garcia asked, from the back of the car. She had insisted on coming along. She'd already located their mobile phones; there was nothing more she felt she could do back at Quantico.

The three exited their own SUV, looking around the abandoned car for any clue or sign of their team mates.

"Flat tyre." Rossi said, looking down at the front passenger side wheel. He kicked the flat, as if it would somehow give him the answer to what had happened.

"Found their phones." JJ said, looking through the back window on the driver's side. She tried the door, not really surprised to find it open. She pulled a pair of gloves out of her pocket, more out of habit than anything. Putting them on she picked up one of the phones. Morgan's. Four missed calls from JJ, and three from Garcia. Apart from that, noting out of the ordinary. The other phones told a similar story. She climbed out of the car and joined Rossi at the front, who was still looking at the flat.

Garcia opened the front passenger door and climbed in, hopping maybe some clue lay in the front of the car. She had taken a pair of gloves from Rossi – just in case. She pulled them on before she began her search.

"They got the jack out." Rossi said, using his foot to indicate the device lying underneath the car, just out of view if you weren't looking for it.

JJ made her way to the rear of the vehicle, crouching down to look underneath. "The spare's half way undone." She said, looking up at the loose hanging tyre. There was something next to it that caught her eye. She reached for it with her still gloved hand and pulled it from underneath. "Guys!" She called, making her way back to the front of the car.

Rossi was stood with his hands on his hips, still looking at the discarded jack.

"I found this." She said, holding up the small canister, slightly larger than a coke can. It was plain silver in colour and looked to be made of aluminium. There was some kind of device on the top that looked almost like an aerosol spray.

"What the hell?" Rossi said, looking first at the canister then around the area. "What happened here?" he moved out of the way as Garcia slowly made her way out of the car. She didn't speak, but seemed to be holding a piece of paper in her hand. "Garcia?" He called gently, noticing the far away look on her face, and the slight glaze in her eyes.

"Huh?" She said, looking up at him, her mouth open slightly.

"Garcia," JJ said, looking quickly at Rossi then back to the Tech. "Are you ok?"

Garcia shook her head, handing JJ the piece of paper she was holding. "It was in the glove compartment." Was all she said.

JJ took the small piece of paper off of her and read what was written on it. "Oh my God." She said, showing it to Rossi. A single word was written on the paper, it was written in red ink.

"_Sinners." _

"He has them." Rossi said, simply.

"What?" Garcia asked, her voice higher pitched than normal, tears forming in her eyes. "Why? Why would he take them?"

JJ shook her head. "He's never left a note like this before." She said, not answering Garcia's question. "And he's never taken four people from one location either!" She looked at the note intently, as if it would answer her. The UnSub couldn't have them, he couldn't.

"And...And..." Garcia was crying now, although she was doing her best to keep herself under control. "Hotch said they were taken thirteen months apart and it's not been thirteen months!" this couldn't be happening. They had no idea who this UnSub was, or where he took his victims. She shuddered a little, realising she had just referred to her friends as 'victims'.

"He wants us to know he has them." Rossi said, still staring at the note. "He knows he's got the FBI's attention." He took a deep breath to steady himself. Thoughts of what may be happening to his friends ran through his mind. He pushed it away. Now, more than ever, was the time to be professional. They needed to find out who this UnSub was, and where he was keeping them. "Call Manassas again." He said, heading back to their own SUV. "Tell them there's been a development."

(((((())))))

"What the hell is this shit?" Morgan asked as he walked through the newly opened door.

The door took them into a large room with high ceilings. It was dimly lit, but not so bad that you couldn't see anything. On the floor was a large chess board. It was slightly raised off the floor, but only by a few inched, a wooden surround running along all four edges. Each square of the board was about one foot squared. In the corner to their far left was what looked to be chess pieces.

"Maybe we have to play our way across?" Hotch suggested, looking from the chess pieces to the rest of the team.

Prentiss shook her head. "They're all queens." She said from where she stood next to Reid. He had refused any help getting up from the floor or making his way to the room. He stood just through the doorway. His arms were wrapped around him for warmth, his hands tucked under his arms, and he was hunched over a little. He was still shivering. Prentiss had noticed it getting a little worse as time went on. She had also noticed that the air in the room seemed to be getting colder too. She felt herself shiver slightly. If she was beginning to feel the chill, God only knew how Morgan and Reid felt.

"There's only four pieces." Hotch said. He had walked over to where the Queens were in the corner. "There's a door behind here." He said, dragging one of the Queens out of the way so the others could see.

"So how do we play chess with four Queens?" Morgan asked as Hotch walked back over to them. This situation was getting to him. He was tired, he was cold. And he was worried; about so many things he couldn't even begin to reassure himself about any of them.

"Eight queens."

Hotch, Prentiss and Morgan all turned simultaneously to look at the younger man. He was pale and shaking and looked like he would fall down at any minuet, but his voice was determined. "You have to place eight Queens on the board so that none can take another," He explained.

"There's only four Queens." Morgan said, turning to look at the pieces before realising. "We're the other four Queens." He laughed a little. It was more of a nervous laugh than anything. "Man. There's gotta be a million combinations to work through." He shook his head again.

"Ninety-two." Reid said, coughing a little. "There are ninety-two solutions." He looked over at the chess pieces. "Well, there are actually only twelve fundamental solutions. The rest are all rotations and reflections."

"Wait," Hotch said, looking at Reid. "You've shown me this before, right?" He had a faint memory of the puzzle, but couldn't recall where from.

Reid closed his eyes as if trying to remember before nodding, pulling his arms a little tighter around himself. He truly could never remember feeling like this. He was sure the air around them was getting cooler, but he didn't mention it.

Prentiss nodded too. "I think I know this." She notice Reid was shivering even more than before, they all did. But they said nothing. "You and Gideon showed me one time on the jet." She furrowed her brow a little as she tried to remember the solution.

Reid looked at her then closed his eyes again. "A1" He said, opening his eyes and looking at the team.

Hotch nodded, over to grab a Queen. It was surprisingly heavy. He ignored the pain that shot up his arm as he dragged it into place at the top corner of the chess bored, noticing the board was wooden as he put the Queen in place.

"E2" Reid said, eyes closed again. This time, he didn't open them. He was trying his best to visualise the chess board in his head. He knew he could do this. He'd done it before. He'd even shown it to Hotch! But he was damned if he could remember it now. Now that it mattered and wasn't just some silly game.

Morgan dragged the second queen into place. "Jeez." He said, struggling a little with the weight of it. He still felt cold, and the chill in the air wasn't helping. He also couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Reid was hurt, and obviously starting to get sick. Hotch and Prentiss had both been injured too. Although none of them had complained, the blood stained jumper on both Hotch's and Prentiss' forearms, and Reid's crudely bandaged hands and shivering were a constant reminder.

Morgan was unharmed. He was a little cold. But he, out of all of them, was the only one who was still ok. His clothes were almost dry, where as Reid still looked soaked. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his minds and looked towards Reid. His eyes were still closed, his brow slightly creased. Morgan knew he was struggling to remember the solution, and that worried Morgan.

"H..." Reid opened his eyes and looked at Prentiss who was still standing next to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Prentiss could tell by the look in his eyes that Reid was struggling. She felt a slight wave of panic rise inside her. Reid always remembered. Always. Not only that, if they couldn't figure this out, who knew what would happen. She glanced down at the floor for a second, herself trying to remember the solution he had shown her. She looked back up at Reid, locking eyes with him. "H3." She said, as the memory of the conversation on the jet came back to her.

Reid smiled at her, grateful for the help. Between them they could work this out. It worried him a little that he hadn't already given the full answer. He knew the others would have noticed that it had taken him an uncharacteristic amount of time to get this far. He was grateful, in a way, that nobody had mentioned it. "C5" he said, closing his eyes again to picture the board.

Morgan wordlessly dragged another queen into place. Hotch made his way to help him with the final Queen, but Morgan stopped him. "I got it, Man." He said, dragging the fourth across the board. "You need to watch your arm."

Hotch nodded, and mix of gratefulness and confusion. He walked over to the chess board. "I remember there being one here." Hotch said, looking at the square. "B7." He said. "It was my college dorm number," He said, looking over at Reid and Prentiss. "That's why I remembered it."

Prentiss nodded "I think that's right." She said, looking at Reid, who showed no recognition at what had just been said. "Reid?" She said, softly. He turned to look at her, but said nothing. "B7." She repeated. Reid nodded, but still remained silent.

Hotch stood on the square. "Three left." He said, looking at the three remaining team mates.

"Over half way." Morgan said, looking at the board. He stood on G8, just behind and to the side of Hotch. "I think I'm pretty safe here." He said, looking around the board. From what he could tell, none of the other Queens would be able to take him. "G8."

Reid nodded. "I think..." He coughed a little. "I think that's right."

"Ok," Prentiss smiled. "That's good." She looked toward the board. "Just you and me." She said as they started to make their way over. "Is it just me, or do you guys all feel like you're in a Harry Potter movie?" She asked, smiling a little. It warmed her when she saw the corner of Reid's mouth twitch into a small smile. It just shocked her when she saw Hotch's do the same.

"There." Reid said, pointing at the G6 square. He turned around to look at the rest of the board, looking at the rest of the pieces.

Prentiss stood on the G6 square. "F4" She said, noticing the one spot in the board that wasn't covered by a Queen. Reid stood on the square and smiled gratefully at her.

"So what now?" Morgan asked. "We just meant to stand here until Nut Job decides to..."

Before he could finish the sentence, there was a thunderous rumble from below them. Within seconds, there was a loud bang. The squares on the chess board not currently occupied by a Queen fell away into darkness below.

The four stood in shock for a moment, not sure what had happened, or what to do.

"I guess that means we got it right." Hotch said after a few minuets.

Prentiss released a nervous giggle before she had a chance to stop herself. "Yeah." She said, looking down at where the other squares had been just moments ago.

Morgan took a step backwards to land himself on solid ground again. He walked around to help Hotch. It was only a foot jump, and Hotch made it easily. Prentiss also only had a foot to jump. She landed no problem and turned back to face Reid. It was only a two foot jump, but Reid was not the most graceful or co-ordinated person at the best of time. Morgan and Hotch were stood next to Prentiss.

Reid looked down then back at the rest of the team. He sighed. He knew it was only a small jump, but he barely felt like standing, let alone jumping. He sighed again, swinging his arms slightly as he jumped over. He made it without a problem, although he automatically put his hand out to grab Morgan's shoulder for support, hissing a little as pain from the sudden contact with his burnt palm shot through his hand and up his arm.

"You ok?" Morgan asked, instantly worried that he'd hurt the younger man. Reid nodded, back to hugging himself to keep warm, but said nothing.

A cluck echoed through the room.

The door had opened.

(((())))

**I'm on holiday next week so not sure when I'll get to update. Hope you enjoyed. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions for rooms/puzzles let me know and I'll try to fit it in. **

**Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. For those wondering why Morgan isn't getting as sick as Reid I shall explain. 1) Morgan wasn't in the water for even half the time Reid was. 2) Reid fully submerged himself, which causes a quicker onset of Hypothermia. 3) Morgan's cloths are made of a lighter material than Reid's, so they dried quicker : ) And Morgan's hair doesn't have to dry either :p**

**Also, it's my story, and I can do what I want ;P Heheh... xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS OR ANY RELATED CHARACTERS**

**A/N: Thanks everyone for reviewing/adding! Sorry for the wait, but family stuff and of course, holiday!**

**Somebody pointed out that I used a few English terms in the last chapter such as 'Jumper' instead of 'Sweater' and 'Tyre' instead of 'Tire'. Apologies. I know this sounds stupid, but as an English person, when you're writing, sometimes your brain forgets to use Americanisms and you just kinda spell things on auto pilot ; )**

**There will be bad language from now on – just a little warning. **

**LABYRINTH – Chapter Six**

"What the hell?" Morgan asked whoever was next to him as they entered the next room.

"I have no idea." Hotch answered, looking around. They were in a large room, a gymnasium with a solid wood floor. Most of the equipment was gone, but a pommel horse stood in the far corner, thick with dust. In the centre of the room were four ropes suspended from the ceiling. At various heights along the ropes envelopes had been attached.

The lowest looked to be attached at about eight or nine feet height, the next at about ten or eleven feet. The third looked around twenty feet up while the last envelope was attached to the very top of the rope where it met the ceiling, easily twenty five feet or so. Each rope hung several feet away from the next. The crash mats had been removed, leaving instead just the bare, hard floor.

"Guys." Prentiss called, softly. She stood next to Reid, her good arm wrapped around his waist a little in the hope of sharing some of her own body heat with him. She tried her best to ignore the shivering, or the damp patch that was now growing on her own sweater from his shirt.

They turned to look at the wall where she had been looking. "What the hell is this place?" Prentiss asked, looking at the large and familiar logo painted on the wall of the gymnasium, the bold letters ''USMC'' Painted underneath.

"I think I know where we are." Reid said, looking at his team mates. He hadn't commented when Prentiss had placed her arm around him. He was thankful for the extra warmth, however slight it was. He couldn't believe how cold he still was. He must have been out of the water for at least a few hours, but his clothes seemed to be refusing to dry. The permanent chill in the air wasn't helping matters. The only positive he could draw was that his hands, although practically useless, weren't hurting him. He wasn't sure if this should actually be classed as a positive, the numbness indicating they were far worse than he initially thought, but he'd rather them be numb that painful. At least that was he only had to really try and cope with the cold.

"I'd guess a Marine base." Morgan suggested, somewhat sarcastically, raising an eyebrow and looking around the gym. His clothes had almost dried, and although he was still aware of the chill in the air, overall he felt ok. Physically at any rate.

Reid ignored him and continued. "There was said to be a Black Ops Marine base built into the Blue Ridge Mountains. It's a never been confirmed, never been denied kinda place." He coughed a little. He didn't remember coughing being one of the symptoms of hypothermia, but his chest felt tight and painful. "They trained for all sorts of terrain. Under water, land, air." He stopped, looking around the gym a little. "The place was apparently closed down in the eighties, although the Government still haven't admitted that it was ever here."

"Well, I guess we know now." Prentiss said, turning to look at the ropes.

"That explains the whole water room to I guess." Morgan said, turning around to look at the Marine crest on the wall. "Underwater training or something?" He half asked, half stated.

"So the UnSub knew about this place." Hotch said, looking around. "How? Was he a Marine? His father?" He asked, looking to the rest of the team as if they'd know the answer.

"Could be," Prentiss said, "Or he could have just stumbled across this place one day while out for a walk. We don't know exactly where it is or how well hidden it is. If the place had been closed and de-classified, maybe the Government have given up trying to hide it."

"But where did he get the time or the money to do this? I mean, the guys gotta have adapted the place, right?" Morgan asked, turning back to face them. "Unless the Marines now train men in Death Chess."

"We can worry about all of this when we get out of here." Hotch said, heading over to the only other viable door on the other side of the room. There was a keypad on the wall with the numbers zero to nine on. "We need a code." He called tot the others. He tried the door regardless, not surprised when it didn't open.

"The envelopes." Prentiss said, pointing with her free hand at the small white envelopes that hung from the ropes.

"What's that?" Reid asked, nodding towards the floor at the base the nearest rope. There was something written on the wooden surface.

Morgan walked over to the rope and knelt down next to the writing on the floor, crouching down the read the all too familiar handwriting. "Four ropes, four people." He read aloud. "One each. No exceptions." He turned back to look at Prentiss and Reid.

Hotch made his way over to stand by Morgan, leaning over to read the final line of rules. "All envelopes removed at the same time. No exceptions."

"Great." Reid muttered to himself. He wasn't the physical weakling that everyone assumed him to be, he just didn't enjoy it, and so he avoided it. What were worrying him were his hands. He could hardly move his fingers, how was he supposed to climb a rope?

"You ok?" Prentiss asked, having heard him mutter. He didn't answer; he just shrugged a little, looking down at his hands.

"Hotch, Man." Morgan said, standing back up to look at his boss. "Reid can't climb with his hands like that." He said, shaking his head.

"He has too." Hotch said. It wasn't cold, nor did it sound harsh. It was factual. He turned to look at the youngest. "Do you think you can manage the shortest one?" He asked. The lowest of the envelopes looked just to be out of Reid's reach if he stretched, meaning he'd barely have to climb the rope at all. It would still hurt, but it was all Hotch could offer him. Rules had been given for a reason, and he dreaded the thought of what may happen if they weren't followed.

Reid nodded, but said nothing. He turned to look at Prentiss and smiled a little before making his way over to the ropes, Prentiss close behind.

"Emily, you take the next one." He said, pointing with his un-bandaged arm towards the second lowest envelope. "Morgan, you take the next..."

"No." Morgan cut in. Hotch went to speak but Morgan continued first. "Your arms cut up pretty bad, Hotch. I'll take the highest one." He moved to stand at the bottom of the rope before Hotch could protest.

Hotch nodded, making his way to the third highest envelope. His arm stung and throbbed painfully under the makeshift bandage but he ignored it. He looked over to Morgan who nodded and began making his way up the largest rope with ease. Hotch started to climb next, gritting his teeth as the raw flesh on his arm protested against the movements. He reached the top, looking over to Prentiss who had also begun to climb.

Prentiss hissed a little as she felt the wounds on her arm pull under the sweater. She glanced over to see Hotch and Morgan already in reach of their envelopes. She reached her own and turned to look where Reid was, surprised to find him already in place. His face was calm, but paler than usual, the strain on his hands showing through in his eyes. It took her a few seconds to realize somebody was speaking.

"Ready?" Hotch called. Everybody murmured there agreement. "On three." He said before counting. "One, two, three."

On the third count, Prentiss reached up and pulled her envelope, giving it a sharp tug. It was attached to the rope by a piece of wire. As the wire snapped, she heard a strange clicking sound. She was about to ask the others what it was when she realised she was falling...

(((((())))))

**Shorter than it was meant to be but better than nothing! Again, sorry about the delay! **


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS OR ANY RELATED CHARACTERS**

**A/N: There are no words to explain or apologise for the delay in this update. I have my reasons, but I won't bore you with the details, just know that I am really sorry you guys had to wait so long!**

**Thanks everyone for reviewing and adding! Do you all remember where we got up to? The I'll begin... Ooh, SWEARING. Just so you know!**

**LABYRINTH – Chapter Seven**

Morgan pulled the envelope from the wire it was attached to. He was about to make his way back down the rope when he heard a clicking sound. He turned to look at the others, but before anyone had the chance to speak, Morgan noticed Reid, Prentiss and Hotch all seemed to be falling. It was almost as if it were happening in slow motion. A split second later, Morgan realised he was falling too.

He didn't remember hitting the ground, just a searing pain shooting from his right ankle to his knee. He heard Hotch call out to him, but his mind couldn't focus on anything but the pain. He sat himself up, as best he could, his left leg bend at the knee, injured leg stretched out in front of him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see it was Hotch. He shook his head, forcing himself to pay attention to what his boss was saying.

"Morgan, are you ok?"

Morgan looked Hotch up and down for a second. He seemed to be unscathed. "My ankle." Morgan managed to breathe out, shocked and annoyed at how little his voice sounded.

"Let me see." Hotch said, in a demanding yet caring tone. He carefully pulled up the cuff of Morgan's pants leg to reveal the damage. Morgan's ankle was already starting to swell. Hotch gently placed his hand over the affected area. Morgan let out a groan of pain, but said nothing. "I don't think it's broken." Hotch said after a few seconds. "Sprained though."

"Hurts like a son of a bitch." Morgan said as Hotch pulled his pants leg back down. He sighed. The implications of a sprained ankle in their current situation didn't bear thinking about. "Everyone else ok?" He asked, looking at them. Reid and Prentiss, who were standing behind Hotch, nodded, both with white envelopes in hand.

"You ok?" Reid asked, his voice still shaky from the cold.

Morgan nodded, trying to ignore the pain in his ankle, the shake in Reid's voice, the blood soaking through the sweater on both Prentiss' and Hotch's arms. "We gonna open these things?" He asked, picking up the envelope that had fell not far away from him after he'd fallen.

Hotch looked surprised for a moment, having completely forgotten about the envelopes. He looked around for his own, discarded after the ropes had fallen and he'd seen how Morgan had landed. He picked it up off of the floor not far away. "Let's do it."

The four opened the envelopes simultaneously.

(((((())))))

"Nothing at all. Zip. Nada. Nilch and Zilch." Garcia said, sounding deflated as she closed the file she was reading. "Nani Mo!" She threw the file on the desk.

"Nani Mo?" Rossi asked, closing his file a little more gently, placing in down on the brown wooden desk of the dreary conference room they were in.

Garcia sighed and looked up at him. "Japanese." was all she said in response.

"There has to be something." JJ said, putting down one file and picking up another. With each file she read, it was looking increasing less likely. Any evidence left at the burial sight had been analysed, but was too degraded by weather and animals to get any real results off of. The pen and paper used were a type and match for a brand that could be bought at any supermarket in the country.

"We got nothing but twenty bodies and your four missing FBI agents." Sergeant Doakes, the leading detective on the case, said as he entered the room. Doakes was a tall and slight built man. He looked to be in his mid thirties with short brown hair and bright blue eyes. Had the situation been different, Garcia would have made some remark to JJ about his good looks. If Morgan had been here, he would have joked with Reid about how _'Pretty Boy's got competition!'._

Doakes sat down next to Rossi and threw the lab results from the paper found in the SUV on the table. "Same brand." He said in an accent that held a hint of New York . "My guess is the same guy."

"The details haven't been released to the press yet so..." JJ shrugged. It was too early and far too unlikely for a copy cat.

"But why take Hotch and Prentiss and Morgan and Reid?" Garcia asked, frustrated. There was no computer trail for her to follow, no calls to trace, no backgrounds to look up. Nothing. And she felt useless. "They're good people. They put the bad people away!"

"If this guy, or UnSub, or whatever," Doakes said, resting his elbows on the arm of his conference chair and leaning forward slightly, "is collecting injustices like you said, maybe," He shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable. He'd only been assigned the case this morning, and the FBI had turned up a little over an hour ago with half their team missing. "Maybe it's not payback for us being involved." He sat back in his chair. "I don't know, have your guys got anything in their past that could be considered something like that?" He suggested. "I mean, this UnSub guy's a little unhinged to start with, right?"

Rossi, JJ and Garcia looked at each other, none willing to speak. They had thought about this possibility, that maybe it wasn't just payback for the FBI being involved. That maybe the team had been targeting specifically. It broke the pattern, but the stress of hearing the bodies had been discovered, that the Police and FBI were involved could have caused the UnSub to devolve.

Doakes blew out a breath. "You don't have to be a profiler to know that means yes." He said, standing, "or to see that you don't wanna talk about it in front of me, so I'll go grab a coffee and you guys can start doing whatever you do." He headed to the door, smiling a little at them as he left.

"Sergeant Doakes!" Rossi called after him. Doakes turned round to look at him. "We appreciate your understanding." He said, smiling a little.

Doakes nodded. "I get it." he said, shifting his weight from one leg to another. "A lot of us have done shit in the past that could ruin our careers, right? The less people that know the better and all that bull." He looked directly at Rossi. "But if it's relevant to my case, then I don't give a damn what they've done, you tell me, ok?"

Rossi nodded and watched as Doakes left, closing the door behind him.

"That was a little menacing." Garcia said, once the conference room door had shut.

"He's right though." JJ said, "It could be relevant to why they were taken. They fit the victimology."

"Don't use that word." Garcia said, looking at the desk. "Don't call them Victims. Please." She looked up at JJ. "And the people he's taken before have been muggers and wife beaters and adulterer and, and..." She stuttered, getting more flustered as she went. "And junkies and..." She stopped, looking both horrified and surprised at the same time. "Oh my God." She whispered.

"Reid had a drug problem." JJ said quietly, "And Emily had an abortion when she was younger." She added. They couldn't ignore the fact they fitted the victimology any longer.

"Morgan was a juvenile delinquent." Rossi continued. "And Hotch beat The Reaper to death. In the UnSub's eyes, that may make him a murderer."

"Oh my God," Garcia said again. She looked up from Rossi to JJ, her eyes brimming with tears. "What's he doing to them."

(((((())))))

"What the hell is this?" Morgan asked, sitting on the floor where he'd fallen. The others had sat too, Prentiss still close to Reid, who was still shivering uncontrollably, the cold concrete floor not helping matters. Morgan looked at the card he'd pulled out of the envelope. It simply had the word 'sin' written on it, once again in red ink.

"Math." Reid answered. Studying his card.

"Math?" Morgan asked. "My card says 'sin'." He said, showing it to the others. "What sin?" He asked, looking back at his own card. "What's yours say?" He asked, looking at the younger man,

"Sine, not sin, Morgan." Reid said, showing his card to the others, revealing the symbol for Square Root. "It's a trigonometry question."

"I got the number twelve." Prentiss said, showing her own card. She could feel Reid shivering next to her, and notice it was beginning to get more violent as time went on. She hoped they could fine a way out of here soon before... She couldn't even bring herself to think of the possibilities. She placed her card on the floor so everybody could see it.

"The number eleven, written in brackets." Hotch said, showing his card and the final piece of the puzzle. He placed it next to Prentiss' on the floor.

"What does this mean?" Morgan asked, shifting a little and hissing as it sent a shooting pain up his leg. "I'm O.K" he said, brushing off the worried looks from the others. "We need to work out the answer, right?"

Hotch nodded. "My best guess would be the answer is the code to unlock the door."

"I hate to break it to you," Prentiss said, "But I sucked at Math in High School."

Morgan chuckled a little. "Yea," he said. "I never believed Mr Thompson when he kept tellin' us we'd need to know it someday."

Prentiss let out a little laugh. "Luckily we have a Doctor of Mathematics in our midst, right." she said, gently nudging him in the ribs with her elbow.

Reid didn't reply, he just continued staring at his card.

"Reid?" Morgan asked, a little concerned. Under normal circumstances, Reid would have had this figured out already. But these circumstances were anything but normal. And now the genius was looking at him with a blank expression. "You ok?" Morgan asked.

Reid laughed a little. "Fantastic." He said, laying his card on the ground next to Prentiss' and Hotch's. Morgan followed suit.

"What order do they go in?" Prentiss asked, looking at the numbers. Never before in her life had she wished she'd paid attention in Math class.

"Square root sign is first." Reid said. Hotch picked out the corresponding card and placed it down neatly. "Sine has to be third. The number's are second and fourth." Reid continued, closing his eyes thinking.

Hotch placed the 'sin' card in the same row as the square root one, leaving room between them for one of the number cards.

"Which way round do they go?" Morgan asked, studying the cards, before looking up at Reid, who still had his eyes closed. "Reid?"

Reid opened his eyes and shrugged. "I don't..." He looked confused. "I don't know." He closed his eyes, swallowing loudly, "I don't know."

Prentiss, Morgan and Hotch exchanged worried glances as they each mentally ran a list of the symptoms of hypothermia though their heads. Inability to concentrate, unable to think clearly... if it were anyone else they assume it was partly the Math problem, partly their predicament. But his wasn't anyone else, this was Reid.

"Ok," Hotch said, bringing everyone's attention back to the equation. "So the brackets on the number eleven shoe parenthesis." He said, thinking aloud. He was nowhere near the standard of Reid when it came to Mathematics, but he knew a little, and hoped if he began to at least attempt to work out the equation, it may encourage Reid to join in.

"They go at the end." Reid said, not opening his eyes. He felt tired, and his brain was struggling to do what was being asked of it. It worried him, but at the same time he felt it hard to really care.

"Ok," Morgan said, moving the final two cards into place. "So we got the square root of twelve, sin or sine or whatever, then eleven in brackets." He studied it for a moment, as if something from his High School Trigonometry class would come rushing back to him. Unsurprisingly, it didn't.

Hotch sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Without the adjacent length, I..." He sighed. "I don't know." He confessed. He knew the answer would be the angle of whatever imaginary triangle the UnSub had concocted, but he couldn't work it out.

"The information's all there." Reid said, opening his eyes. He willed his brain to work, feeling frustrated that the answer was there, right in front of him, he just couldn't reach it. "Ok." He said, muttering to himself.

The others sat in silence, not wanting to disturb his thought. They chose not to think about the fact it had taken him substantially longer to work out than usual.

"Erm..." Reid said, opening his eyes and looking at the equation, his eyes darting from one part if it to the next. "Zero point six, six, one, one." He said, shaking his head. "No," He closed his eyes for a few seconds. "Zero point six, six, one, zero." He said, opining his eyes and looking at Hotch.

Hotch stood and walked to the door. He studied the lock for a moment. "There's are only four slots for a number." He said, looking at the others.

"Try knocking off the first zero." Prentiss suggested.

Hotch nodded, entering the code. "Sis, six, one, zero." He said aloud to himself as he did so. There was a small click and the door unlocked. Hotch tried the handle, relieved when it opened. He made his way back to the group to help Morgan stand. Reid and Prentiss stood, the latter placing an arm around Reid's waist in an effort to share body warmth. Reid didn't protest.

Hotch helped Morgan to his feet and placed and arm around his waist while Morgan put his arm around his boss' shoulder. "Thanks" He muttered., his injured ankle protesting with every step.

They wordlessly made there way through the door, which slammed shut behind them. For the first time they looked around there new surrounding.

The room as small and grey. It was the old locker room. A row of damaged and broken lockers lined one wall. Showers that had a pungent and repulsive smell creeping from them sat round the corner from the lockers. The room was poorly lit, just like the rest of the building.

They rounded the far corner to find two beds. The frames were metal, but, surprisingly, the sheets where white and clean, a stark contrast to the rest of the room. There was a small refrigerator in the corner of the room, on top of which sat an envelope.

Hotch helped Morgan to sit on one of the beds and retrieved the envelope. He opened it to reveal another card, written on in red. "Rest now." He read aloud. "Day one is over. Learn from your Sins."

(((((())))))

**Hurrah! A new chapter after a stupid amount of time. Just FYI, if you watch 'Dexter' (or not) then Doakes – in my head – looks like Joey Quinn (Desmond Harrington) and how he speaks is loosely based on him too. (He may swear a lot :) ). And yes, the name Doakes is also from Dexter (sorry – I'm reading it at the moment and couldn't think of anything else!)**

**Hope you enjoyed, do let me know. If you have any ideas for 'games' for the gang to play while there trapped, don't be shy, let me know! Full credit and appreciation will be given!**

**The math may be off, I was awful at math. But lets over look that, shall we :)**

**Until next time xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CRIMINAL MINDS OR ANY RELATED CHARACTERS**

**A/N: Apologies again for the delay. I can only hope you can all understand why things are slow and not chase me down the street with a crate of rotten tomatoes…**

**Special mention to **_**RIPON**_**. Thanks for your ideas… really helped me with the direction I want this story to take. And I can only apologise for the grammar issues **** Promise I will improve my proof reading efforts! **

**Thanks everyone for reviewing and adding! SWEARING. Just so you know!**

**LABYRINTH – Chapter Eight**

"We may have something." Doakes said as he entered the conference room the FBI agents sat in. The table was still littered with the twenty 'Missing Person's' reports from the case. He walked over to Garcia and pointed towards the laptop she had set up. "You mind?" He asked, his New York accent more pronounced than usual.

Garcia shook her head and turned the laptop so Doakes could use the keyboard.

"What is it?" JJ asked, sitting up slightly in her chair. With no leads, the team – what was left of it – had just been reviewing files and feeling useless. JJ had called all family members of the victims but had gained little or no new information. She glanced up at the clock on the wall quickly. It was almost ten o'clock. Henry would long be in bed. She felt a little pang in her heart as she thought of Jack, tucked up in bed not knowing his Dad was missing. Doakes turned the laptop round so the screen was facing the team, bringing JJ's mind back to the present.

"This is CCTV footage of a camera just a little ways up from where your team's SUV was found." He said, as the Black vehicle drove past on the screen. "A couple of minutes later," He leant over the screen and pressed a key to make the footage fast forward. "This van drives past."

"You can't read the plates." Rossi pointed out, shaking his head.

"Ah," Doakes said, turning the laptop again so he could work on it before returning it to face the team. "This is footage from a camera set up to monitor animal activity in the woods. Some conservationists reckon there are some deer of badger or whatever in there. It's a mile and a half from where the SUV was and there are no turning's off the road between the two cameras." He leant over and pressed a key to make the footage play. "Thirty five minutes later, the same black van, with a readable plate." He smiled, looking at the agents.

"Thirty five minutes to travel a mile and a half with no traffic is a little unusual." Rossi said, looking from the screen to Doakes.

"So this guy either saw something…." JJ said, studying the screen and the still image if the van.

"Or he took them." Rossi finished.

(((((())))))

"Learn from our sins." Morgan said, thinking aloud. They had been in their new room for what Morgan would guess was about ten minutes. He sat on the bed still, Prentiss and Reid sat on the remaining bed. Hotch had been pacing up and down for the last few minutes.

"You think that's the connection?" Prentiss asked. Sat next to Reid, she could feel him shivering. His breathing seemed to have become shallower and this worried her. She recalled a test she heard of to check on the severity of his hypothermia. As the condition worsened, people were unable to get the tip of their thumb and little finger to meet, but remembering the state of his hands it seemed unlikely he'd be able to do it anyway. She turned to look at him. He seemed to be having a little difficulty staying awake. "You ok?" She asked.

Reid, now completely dry but feeling no better for it, nodded. "Fell like I'm gonna be sick, but I'm ok." He tried to smile reassuringly, but it turned into a grimace as he felt a bolt of pain travel through him. "You?" He asked, trying his best to deflect attention from himself.

Prentiss nodded. Her arm hurt, a lot. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was starting to lose hope that they were going to ever get out of this hell hole alive. Not one victim had. And now all of them were injured in some way. She turned to face Morgan. "You ok?"

He didn't answer. He was watching Hotch, who had moved over to the small refrigerator and removed a bottle of water. "You're not gonna drink that, are you?" Morgan asked, sounding worried.

Hotch nodded. "None of the victims showed signs of dehydration, starvation or poisoning." He answered, sounding as stoic as ever, before shrugging. "And I'm thirsty." Hotch took a swig of water. He knew Morgan had a point. It was hard to trust a person that would take you against your will, then force you to complete tasks to survive that were more than likely going to kill you in the end anyway. But if he was going to fight his way through this dungeon he damn well wasn't going to do it thirsty.

"He needs us alive to test us." Prentiss said, agreeing with Hotch. "Poisoning's not elaborate enough for this creep." She said, looking around the room. "Learn from your sins."

"Drugs." Reid said quietly, staring at a spot on the floor. "That's my sin." He looked up at Morgan and Hotch, who was now sitting down on the bed next to the other man. " I used drugs." He smiled sadly.

Prentiss could practically see the cogs turning in Morgan's mind. "I had a record when I was younger. I got it expunged." He sighed. "My sin."

"Oh my God," Prentiss said, as it dawned on her why they were here. Why they had been chosen. It wasn't a random attack on the FBI for their involvement. The victims weren't random. They all had some sin they'd committed, at least in the UnSub's mind. They all met the victim profile, all four of them.

"I killed someone." Hotch said, looking away as he took a sip of water as memories of that day, Haley, Foyet - all came back.

"It wasn't like that Hotch." Morgan said, "It was self-defence. He killed…."

"I didn't have to kill him." Hotch interrupted. "I could have arrested him. I didn't." He took a sip of water. "My sin."

The room was silent for a few moments until Prentiss spoke. "Erm.." She cleared her throat. "When I was fifteen…."

"You don't have to tell us." Reid said, the ever present shake in his voice not going unnoticed.

Prentiss smiled at him, placing her hand on his leg and squeezing gently. She turned to look at the others. "I had an abortion." The room went silent again, as each of them contemplated their own, and the others, sins.

"We should all try and get some rest." Hotch said.

"Hotch, man..." Morgan said, a small smile on his face. "There are two beds, and four of us."

"I'll share with Reid." Prentiss said. Besides the fact that he could use the extra body warmth, it somehow felt less awkward than having to share with Hotch or Morgan.

"Woah…" Morgan said, holding his hands up. "I ain't sharing with Hotch…" Morgan started to protest, but Hotch cut him off.

"It's fine. You three sleep." He said. "One of us should probably stay awake anyway, in case of surprises." He said, moving to let Morgan have the whole bed. "I'll wake you in a few hours, we'll swap" he said, looking at Morgan, who nodded. "Prentiss," He said, turning to look at her.

She nodded, understanding the silent message. Her job was to keep an eye on Reid. His hypothermia was showing no signs of improving or slowing pace, and judging from the angry red skin visible from the makeshift bandages around his hands, they weren't fairing much better.

Hotch sat himself on the floor against the wall, a few feet from Morgan's bed. "I'll wake you in a few hours." He said, praying to any God that was listening they'd all make it out ok.

(((((())))))

**Really sorry, this chapter was meant to be longer and actually have things happen in it. But time and life have once again got the better of me. Thanks again to Ripon, whose**** suggestions shall come to fruition! Thanks all for reading. xx**


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